Issue 7: Dirty Laundry
by Fallen X-Angels
Summary: What with all the animosity flying around the team, there's plenty of dirty laundry just waiting to be aired. Will the Angels end up better or worse off, when they decide to do their spring cleaning?


Fallen Angels

V1, Issue 7

"Dirty Laundry"

By Beaubier and Sue Penkivech

Ed. Taekwondodo

* * *

"Yer want some?" Kurt heard, and peered over the top of the newspaper he was reading to see what Jono was referring to. The younger man was standing at the kitchen counter, coffee pot in hand and eyebrows raised, waiting for a response, and Kurt grinned broadly. Freshly brewed coffee in the morning was something one simply shouldn't turn down.

"Danke," he replied before turning back to the paper, where he was reading the story about the Courthouse episode of the day before. He was surprised, thus far; not one referral to the _mutant menace_ in the whole article. Instead, it referred to the Fallen Angels as the _new local team of superhumans_, and included an interview with the Mayor, who had given them a glowing commendation. He set it down with a smug grin, and accepted the steaming mug of coffee that Jono was proferring, sipping it gingerly.

"Not bad," he said to Jono, referring both to the coffee and the paper on the table. "Considering we've only been in operation here a few weeks, and that Bobby froze out half of CIMR, it's miraculous that the reporters are saying positive things about us."

"Maybe yer should write a Getting Started manual for superhero teams, eh mate?" Jono quipped, and Kurt chuckled. "Y'know – first step, save the Courthouse from some sorta hot terrorist fem…"

"Mmmhmm," Kurt inarticulately replied, the smile on his face broadening as he recalled his encounter with the enigmatic Isabel. While he harbored lingering concerns about exactly what she was going to do _next_, he couldn't help thinking that it had certainly been…invigorating…to fence with her, both verbally and with swords. The way her body had moved while they fought hadn't distracted him at the time, but it certainly did in retrospect. Not to mention the fact that the signals she had sent him throughout their sparring match were anything but mixed...

"Hey, Kurt – are you with us?" he heard from behind him, and turned abruptly to see that Paige had entered the kitchen, a stack of papers in her hand.

"Ja, Paige – just lost in my own thoughts," he replied, and heard Jono laugh from the other side of the table. He was glad to hear it, even if it _was_ at his own expense; the Brit had been morose since his arrival, even by comparison to his norm. And while Kurt could hardly blame him, given the circumstances, he was glad to see that Jono seemed to be settling in, and accepting that he was, in fact, a part of the team. There had never been any question in his mind, or in anyone else's, but Jono, understandably, had held himself aloof since his arrival.

Even if the biggest obstacle to that, given the gossip he'd picked up from Jubilee on their walk home the previous day, was now standing before them.

"What do you have there?" he asked, giving her his full attention and ignoring the nagging thought in the back of his mind that somehow, he should help these two settle their differences, whatever they were. He'd done enough harm to the team, he told himself firmly, getting in the middle of the Bobby/Kitty/Jean-Paul situation – he was staying out of Jono and Paige's completely.

"I've got the information you asked for," she replied, her green eyes bright with excitement, and he could hear the satisfaction in her voice. "Police reports, reports from campus security, analysis of what was left of the boat they arrived in – everything."

Kurt groaned inwardly, realizing just how much time she must have invested in gathering the information; most of which, he knew, he'd already gotten from Kitty, who'd been an eyewitness to the entire affair. And whom he'd forgotten to suggest that Paige speak with about it.

"If you look here," she said, turning the pile around and presenting the first page to him, "you'll see that they speculate the Sentinels come from –"

"Genosha. Ja, I know. Paige, I'm sorry…" he began, feeling his face redden beneath his fur at the intensity of her glare.

"Lemme guess, ya talked to Kitty," she stated coolly, but he could see the fire just barely hidden in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Paige, I meant to tell you," he apologized while mentally kicking himself, knowing full well that while Paige had every right to be angry with _him_ over his oversight, he wasn't likely to be the one she was going to blame. As if the tension between Paige and Kitty hadn't been thick enough already.

"Did she mention that Purity's webmistress is braggin' on their site that she's got a brand new weapon against the mutant menace?" she asked, and his ears perked.

"Nein, she didn't," he admitted, looking at his blonde teammate with new respect. Apparently Paige had really done her homework. Not that he'd expected otherwise, or he wouldn't have asked for her help…but this was an interesting new development.

"I thought she might not have," she said with a sniff, handing him a piece of paper. "If you look you'll see that, while she makes it _sound_ as if she's talking about new information, she never actually comes out and _says_ that, just that Purity's new weapon will be _considerably more effective at combating the mutant threat than any that they had available before," _she read, peering sideways at the paper to better read it. "It _could_ mean new info, but somehow I doubt it," she concluded, and Kurt nodded, his mind racing. This _could_ easily be the break they'd needed to discover where the sentinel that Paige and Jubilee had encountered had originated, and if any others remained. But now…Kitty wasn't on campus any longer, and would be far too conspicuous, given her recent experiences there…his mind weighed his options, and he turned to face the young man sitting on the far side of the table, who'd been silent throughout this exchange.

"Jonothan," he said, "how do you feel about a little undercover work?"

"What?" Paige exclaimed loudly before Jono could do more than open his mouth. "I mean, he's practically just gotten here, he's wounded…"

"And I fucked things up royally with WeaponX, is that what yer saying, Paige? Yer right, I'm a total failure as a spy," Jono declared, getting to his feet. "Thanks fer pointin' it out," he added, as he stormed out the doorway.

"That isn't what I meant," Paige said to Kurt, as if pleading with him to believe her. "I just – I wanted to volunteer, that's all," she said finally. "I know I've never worked undercover, but I was thinking about signing up for some classes anyway, and…"

"Fine," Kurt replied, his tail twitching with irritation. He was _not_ going to get involved in Jono and Paige's personal relationship. He refused to. Which meant, effectively, that he couldn't sit and listen to it, either. If Paige wanted the assignment, why not? She was certainly well-qualified, and the most likely to blend in. "Consider yourself going undercover. Now, I'd like you to speak with Kitty about…"

"Why do I have to talk to her? She doesn't even go there anymore," Paige grumbled, but dropped it when faced with a glare from Kurt.

"Because, as I'm sure you'll agree, someone going undercover doesn't do so without the best preparation we can provide. That," he added, gesturing towards the papers, "is an excellent start. However, Kitty's dealt with the _people_ in Purity before, and the Campus Administration. She'll be able to help you with the dynamics of the situation, and that's _not_ something you can get off your printouts," he said, trying to remain calm.

He had the utmost respect for Paige's abilities, really – she was a superb researcher, and a terrific fighter. She had a knack for putting together the pieces of a puzzle that was truly remarkable. Her _teamwork_ skills, however, were occasionally questionable. It was something they were going to have to work on, and he hoped that the other two former GenX-ers didn't suffer from a similar lack. While he was willing to acknowledge, given her apparent animosity toward Kitty, that it might be an uncomfortable discussion at best, if Paige truly wanted to be given the type of responsibility she obviously yearned for she was going to have to get used to being in such situations. But perhaps, he thought, he could smooth the way a bit…

"I'll give Katzchen a call," he said, holding up his hand as Paige was about to object. "If she can be here this afternoon, can you meet with her then to discuss this?" Acting as if Paige's reluctant nod was full agreement, he nodded, and got to his feet. "Good, then. Once you've made your initial plan, let's get together to discuss it - and if you need any help, please let me know." He picked up his coffee cup and what was left of his poor, crumpled newspaper, and returned the former to the sink. When he turned back, Paige was gone.

Kurt shrugged, wondering if he could have handled the situation better, but he honestly couldn't think of a way that he could have. Either Paige had gone off to celebrate her first solo mission, or she'd gone off to complain to someone that she was going to have to deal with Kitty. Either way, there wasn't a great deal he could do about it.

What he could do, he reminded himself, was make the phone call he'd promised to make. Perhaps if he handled the situation somewhat more adroitly with Kitty than he had with Paige, they could still escape a "major blow-up", as Jubilee was fond of calling it. Grumbling to himself about the relative size of phone buttons when pressed by oversized fingers, he dialed the number of her apartment, and waited while the phone rang.

"Hello?" Kitty answered, and Kurt felt his shoulders lose some of their tension. At least she sounded as if she were in a good mood.

"Katzchen, what are you up to today?" he asked, trying to sound optimistic.

"Not much," she replied. "I was going to go let Bobby trounce me at Monopoly again, and then come work on the computer system. What's up?"

Kurt took a deep breath, preparing for the expected explosion. "Well, if you have some time, I was hoping you could come over and meet with Paige about Purity – she's going to be infiltrating the organization to gain some information about the Sentinel she and Jubilee recently encountered."

"What?" Kitty exclaimed loudly, and he pulled the phone away from his ear. Perhaps she wasn't in quite as good a mood as he'd hoped. "You want me to meet with _Paige?_ Kurt, she _hates_ me."

"Well, I wouldn't say that she _hates_ you, Katzchen, though I'll admit…"

"And why is that, anyway?" Kitty asked, interrupting. "You said we'd talk about it later, and we haven't…"

"Kitty, I honestly don't know," he sighed. "I haven't asked her. Why don't you, when the two of you meet?" he suggested. "Maybe you can work things out."

"As if I want to. Yeah, ok," she conceded grudgingly, just as he opened his mouth to protest. "I'll come over after I stop at the hospital; that way I can give Jubilee a ride home at the same time."

"That sounds like a good plan. And Kitty? Thank you," he added before he hung up.

Pouring himself another cup of coffee, he sat back down at the table, hoping he hadn't created yet another disaster…

Jono had fumed and fretted for about an hour, walking laps in the yard and chain smoking.

Mainly because Paige was right. He had fucked things up with Weapon X. He wasn't sure _how _he'd done it, but he obviously had. They'd known. And they'd chased him.

So long. Jesus, they'd chased him for so long. And he couldn't even remember most of the getting here, to Chicago, really. It was just one long, black stretch of pain and confusion. He didn't like to think about it, but how could he _not_? And how could he not think about...

All of it.

So he did. He thought about it all, hard. Wolverine, Jackson, Sublime. Hate, disgust, murder. Whoring himself out for the "greater good." Selling his soul on the recommendation of someone he'd looked up to... someone who should've understood...

But it had felt dirty, sleeping with that Weapon X operative. Because he'd loathed her. Not only her, but everything she worked for, stood for, wanted him for. At least with Sugar and her lot, they had the excuse of being young and stupid and free.

And, of course, there was always the fact that his sensitivity toward issues of whoring himself out had been magnified about a billion times by the simple, cold-blooded act of murder he'd so recently committed. Which was, of course, the real issue. He was only thinking of the other issues to avoid that one, in fact, and he knew it. He did it with a practiced, almost cold sort of calculation, really. Murder crops up in the head, push it aside, think about something else painful, but not _quite _as painful as ending another human life and being betrayed by those whose ideology you thought was flawless...

Right. Moving on.

Jono rounded the corner into the living room, thinking about just how right Paige was about him, what a failure he was, to himself and to his former teammates, just in time to see Kitty Pryde enter the house, looking irritated. He waved to her, and she nodded in response, with a slight smile.

Pretty girl, really. Smart as hell, or so he'd heard, but he'd only seen her in the hospital, with Bobby. Never really met her before then that he could remember, despite her apparent long history with the X-Men. She hadn't left Drake for very long, it seemed, since he'd been in hospital. Word was that they'd been an item in the past, but things had gone to the shitter and now they were... not together but always next to each other, or summat like that.

Jubilee was a bit confusing, really, when she gossipped. Either that, or Jono hadn't been too interested in what she was saying. Bless her, but it happened, sometimes. The girl always had been a talker, and sometimes with Jubilee, it was just safer to filter most of it. For the sake of one's sanity, really. And Jono had precious little of that left, as it was.

"Afternoon," he said to her.

"Hey, Jono," She replied, with a harrowed kind of smile, as she hung up a light jacket on the coat rack beside the foyer. "How is the whole building on thing going? This whole living 15 minutes away thing isn't terrible, but it's starting to get a little old. Traffic in Chicago is hell. Always has been, always will be."

He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the previously unseen figure of JP-- who had apparently been sitting on the couch the whole while, reading his paper. He'd just been so quiet, Jono hadn't even noticed him sitting there. "The addition should be finished within a week or two. You can even have your own room, if you can manage to peel yourself off of Bobby for long enough to sleep alone."

Well, that was rather rude. Jono raised his eyebrows and watched Kitty's face turn an astounding shade of pink, almost immediately, saw brown eyes flash with a kind of fury only a woman could muster. The kind he knew better than to fuck with.

He actually took a step backwards, and held his hands up, then looked over at JP. He could only see the back of his Canadian teammate's head... but he suddenly wished he could see his face too. Because damn... that was wicked cold, really. What the fuck was he on about anyhow...?

"You know what, Jean-Paul," Kitty was suddenly saying, hands firmly on her hips, face still flushed, eyes narrowed. "If you keep this passive-aggressive bullshit up much longer, I'm going to have to hurt you."

Well holy Christ... also unexpected.

Jono took another step back. But couldn't find it in him to actually _leave _the room. Partially because he almost _needed _to know what the fuck was happening here, and partially because he was terrified that too much motion would attract her attention and make him a target as well. And all the while he'd thought she was a sweet, slightly geeky, typical American girl next door type...

So much for first impressions.

Jean-Paul slammed his paper down, as if completely unimpressed with her suddenly aggressive behavior. Which, from what he'd seen of JP, was not all that unexpected. He honestly couldn't imagine the snarky speedster backing down from much of anything, purely because of his overwhelming, irritating (but at the end of the day, somewhat enviable) pride. He stood, shoulders square, turning to face the girl near the entry-way, and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Hurt me, will you? I should think not. There is _nothing _you could do to hurt me, at this point."

"You're just mean," Kitty shot back, shaking her head at him, "For absolutely no fucking reason. Did you think I _meant _to come between you? Did you even think there was _something _for me to come between--?"

"You have _no_ idea how I--," The Canadian mutant began to protest.

But she interrupted him with, "But you _mean _to come between us. What the fuck is wrong with you anyhow?"

Christ... lost. Jono was so lost, he felt almost like his head was spinning. Who was coming between Jean-Paul and... Kitty? Did they even _know _each other? And what were they acting so fucking hard about in the first place, if they felt like something had come between them? They sure as fuck weren't lovers, everyone knew Beaubier was queer as a three bob note... not that it was a bad thing, but that surely excluded the possibility of this being a lover's quarrel...

"_Wrong _with me? What is _wrong _with me?" Jean-Paul seemed totally confused by this accusation, that something might conceivably be wrong with him, and simply looked at her for a moment.

_Must be nice_, Jono thought_, to think that you're so perfect, the suggestion that you might not be sends you into fits of confusion. The fuck. _Not for the first time since he'd moved into the house, the British mutant found himself coveting the Canadian's confidence. And, really, wondering how much of it was for real. Most of it, he figured. No one was that good of an actor. But sometimes it seemed...

"Nevermind," Kitty hissed, cutting through Jono's own internal diatribe, "It's obvious that you just can't accept what's happening. And it's obvious that you're jealous, on top of that. You crack jokes about me sleeping with Bobby, but it's only because you wish it was _you _who had that option. And fuck you for being so passive-aggressive about it. And fuck you for all the things you've said to me this week."

Jono's mouth literally fell open at that. And he found himself staring, totally off guard, completely surprised, at Jean-Paul Beaubier.

Who looked like someone had just socked him in the jaw. Hard. The dark-haired man's face was stony and pale, but his eyes... bright, electric blue eyes were just... shocked. And fucking sad, really.

Oh. Right.

Jean-Paul was in love with Bobby.

Christ. Made sense now, though. Jono had seen that look on JP's face more than once, really. That sad, kind of faraway, hopeless look. He knew the look well enough. Saw it all the time.

In the mirror. Sorry prick that he was.

But yeah, that was actually the thing that made Jono wonder, on occasion, about the other man's confidence. He'd seen that look a few times, and he hadn't quite recognized it... but now. Oh fuck yes. Now he saw it, crystal clear. As an unmuddied lake, as it were.

And Jean-Paul wasn't answering. His jaw was twitching, convulsively. His hands were curling into fists. His eyes... good god, his eyes.

It made Jono hurt, looking at him. Because fuck... fuck, he knew that feeling.

Some sick part of him thought it was rather nice, really. At least he knew he wasn't alone in his rejection and misery. Also explained why he and JP always seemed to be taking their little time-outs on the back porch lately. It was getting to be a regular thing, the two of them going outside and moping.

Not that he could blame Kitty for lashing out, of course. Jean-Paul was a dickhead. And he _had _started it.

But he was feeling more kindly disposed toward the male end of the bitch fight, at the moment. For sentimental reasons.

"Fine, you know what," Kitty shook her head once more, and started toward the hallway that would take her to the rest of the house. "Just fuck you. I'm done with this. Get over it, or don't, I don't even care. I have shit to do." And with that, she stomped out of the room.

Leaving a suddenly self-conscious Jono staring at a _very _unhappy Jean-Paul.

Their eyes met, for just a moment. And Jean-Paul narrowed his, suddenly. As if he was just noticing that the younger man was there at all.

Jono swallowed, hard. Funny, to have that reaction back, after so long without it. Funny, that this could make him uncomfortable at all, after what he'd been through. But really... it did. JP's gaze was burning right through him, and Jono suddenly wondered if the former Alphan was one of those people who could just steal your soul with their eyes. Certainly looked like a distinct fucking possibility.

He smiled, half-heartedly, and offered up a weak laugh, "Nice gel, really."

Jean-Paul simply looked at him a moment longer. Looked through him. Then sniffed, looked away, and sat back down. Facing away from Jono, once again.

Jono managed to breathe again, after that. But stood just a moment longer, considering what he'd just witnessed. And he quickly decided that he couldn't even begin to sort out the dramatic implications of the situation for the entire house.

However, it _had _taken his mind off the fact that he was a murdering sod, himself, for a few moments. Which was alright, really. And suddenly, he understood why people at home were always watching _Neighbours_...

_The nerve! The fucking _gall _of that man! _

Kitty was fuming, as she slammed open the door to the new computer nerve center for the Fallen Angels. Yes, she actually pushed it so hard, that she'd managed to slam it _open_.

And she didn't care. Because god, _god_, she could've torn something, someone, in half. Of all the bitter, self-absorbed, asshole things he could talk about, he had to pick on her and Bobby. Right _now_.

Things at the hospital had been... tense. Not tense, just... pregnant. Maybe it was just on her end; she wasn't really sure, to be honest. But it was obvious that they had things they needed to deal with, her and Bobby, and that the hospital sick bed probably wasn't the best place to deal...so instead she just thought about it all the time. Turned it over and over in her head. How she felt. What she'd done. How she thought Bobby might feel about it, since she couldn't get up the nerve to ask him. Considering. A million good intentions, a million bad ideas. And absolutely no answers.

And then, Jean-Paul. Ok, truth be told, she probably _could _have talked to Bobby in the hospital, if not for that snarky speedster and his passive-aggressive Kitty bashing. She'd been dying to have it out in the open with him since he'd started with his stupid implications and accusations. Dying to give him a piece of her mind.

And now she had. But it didn't change the fact that... he might've been right, initially. If she hadn't come... would Bobby have been alright? Would he have been better off? Had she caused his break down? It was awfully self-centered of her to think that she had, but Jean-Paul sure seemed to think it was related…would she cause another if she dared to bring up anything... sensitive? She had quite a record of hurting people she…cared about, after all.

God. God she hated that man, at the moment. She was tempted to go back into the living room, just so she could land a square punch right on that chiseled jaw of his, in fact. She wanted to _hurt _him.

Because dammit. He'd hurt her.

But now she was standing in the security room, breathing hard, and the perfectly composed, snot-nosed Paige Guthrie was looking up at her with those big green eyes that Kitty just _knew _didn't miss a damn thing. And she saw the younger girl raise one eyebrow, as if to say, "_Someone's _looking like hell..." in the most demeaning way possible. And she felt her jaw clench, involuntarily.

Well, hell. While she was at it, why not just air all the dirty laundry in the house? Because, in the state she was in right now, she was _not _going to be able to handle getting _that _look from Paige for the next two hours. Nor would she be able to handle the girl's subversive condescension.

"Got a problem, Guthrie?" She plante her hands on her hips, and let the door swing shut behind her.

Paige's other eyebrow rose up, to match its mate, high on her forehead.

"With me, that is? Because if you do, let's just get it out in the open. I am sick and tired of people in this house treating me like I'm some kind of outsider, like I'm less than you all. If I'm an Angel, I'm an Angel. So let's just clear the air."

Paige cocked her blonde head, and narrowed her eyes-- but not meanly, exactly. Almost as if she was considering the offer. Deciding if, logically, it was a good idea or not to express her true feelings on the subject of Kitty Pryde.

Which irritated the shit out of Kitty. Not that it would've taken much, at that point. But damn, was the girl even _human_?

"Ok, fine," The southerner nodded once, and set her jaw. "You want to know what my problem with you is? You _really _want to know?"

Kitty pulled her backpack off, dropped it on the floor, and sat down across the console table from Paige. Oh yeah. This should be great. At least she knew she wouldn't back down or make any apologies today-- Jean-Paul had her ready to break something. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't. Trust me."

"Fine," she said again, biting at her lip for just a moment, but not out of indecision. Those sharp eyes said it all. She was ready to let it fly.

_Hope we don't break anything. Much. I just got all these systems set up…_

"When we started this out, when we all left Xavier's, Kurt told me that he thought he could use my skills. He said he thought I was good at what I did. And this is what I do, Pryde. This is my life. I've wanted it since I was too young to even _have _a mutation, since Sam first sent home letters from school. I wanted to be an X-Man. I wanted to do some good. So I became one-- first at the Massachusetts Academy, then with Banshee and X-Corps, then finally, _finally_, I was allowed to be an X-Man. Almost.

"But I wasn't, not really. Everyone treated me like I was still that little kid from GenX. And I'm not. I'm good, goddammit," She was speaking low now, almost like she'd forgotten Kitty was there entirely.

The dark-haired girl was tempted to interrupt, actually, not really seeing what this had to do with Paige's animosity toward her at all. It was a familiar enough story-- she'd been the youngest X-Man once too. And it had, most definitely, sucked. But Christ, what the hell did that have to do with _her_?

Paige continued, however, before she got the chance to ask. Which, she realized, was probably for the best...

"And you know what? Kurt was the one who believed in me. When we came here, before we came here, he made that clear. So I thought this would be... I thought I would be... goddammit, I thought I'd be _important_."

At this, Kitty actually calmed down, somewhat. Well, at least her pulse had stopped pounding through her head like a jackhammer. She cocked her head at the girl across the console from her, and wrinkled up her nose. "And you think you're not? What's that have to do with me?"

Paige sighed, somewhat dramatically, and looked pointedly up at the ceiling. Not quite rolling her eyes. But nearly. "You're Kurt's old pal from Excalibur, right? Now you're here, he doesn't need me, and it's back to the kiddie table. Happy?"

And that was the last of the anger. Now, Kitty was just... confused. "Are you serious? _That _is what you hate me for?"

"I don't hate you," the blonde girl stuck out a full lower lip, and suddenly looked about ten years younger as she pouted. "I just don't... I feel..."

"Like I'm pushing you out," Kitty finished, with a sigh. Well shit. "Kurt is my friend, Paige. We've known each other a long time. I mean, I don't get angry because Jean-Paul likes you better than me, right?"

"True," She nodded slowly, "He definitely likes me better...I'm not sure he likes you at all, to be honest."

Ok, _not_ what she'd been going for there. Accurate, but not exactly the reaction she'd wanted. Especially since, at the moment, she really didn't _give_ a fuck what Jean-Paul thought of her. "Kurt knows what I can do, and wants me to do it. I mean, he's had you working on all kinds of shit lately, right? He knows you're good. If he didn't think you were good, you wouldn't be here, and he sure as hell wouldn't be sending you undercover to check out Purity. And dammit, _you _know you're good, which is the important thing. What's the problem?"

Paige just blinked at her for a moment. And then seemed to let out a very long, but very controlled breath. Not a sigh. "God... ah've been a real bitch, haven't ah?"

Kitty actually grinned a little, at the return of the girl's accent. And wondered if it meant that she was finally letting down her guard. Not that it made up for her treating Kitty like crap for the past week, but... well it meant there was hope for at least _one _of the two people in the house whom she'd been sure hated her. "Yeah."

Again, a blonde eyebrow arched. But instead of starting the bitchfest again, Paige gave a wry smile. "Right. I'm usually better with pressure."

"You strike me as the type who lives for it," Kitty admitted. And she realized, with a surprising amount of satisfaction, that this was the first actual conversation she'd had with the girl since they'd met.

"You don't seem like you'd exactly fold yourself."

Kitty returned the wry grin, this time, remembering her recent _conversation_ with Jean-Paul. "No. Not so much. Not usually. Look, are we over this, then?"

Paige nodded, suddenly businesslike, and pulled her long blonde hair out of her face with both hands, then worked on fastening it with a ponytail-holder. "For now. Tell me about Purity."

Bobby laughed into the telephone, stopping only to cough a few times. "Yeah, seriously Annie, you should've been there. The guy actually handed me a recipe card, and told me to 'Stop angsting, and be useful.' Made me cook _broccoli_. I don't even _eat_ broccoli! And these oven baked herbed potatoes – I burned those, though…" he admitted, still chuckling.

"Burnt potatoes, courtesy of the Frost-Boy," she quipped, and he laughed, remembering what he'd liked about Annie. She was always quick with the come-backs. "No wonder you ended up in the hospital – you wanted to avoid your own cooking.

"Not so frosty anymore, though, " he said, stretching out on the hospital bed, the arm not occupied with the phone bent back behind his head. "Damn, but it feels good, too – I haven't been this warm in months."

"Oh, is that because of the lack of ice, or the company? I understand you've got a new…kitty cat hanging around?" she asked leadingly, the amusement in her voice obvious. "Is she cuddly?"

"Hmmm, hard to say," he replied, closing his eyes. Kitty had been friendly, caring, great company…but not cuddly, not since just after he'd de-iced. He could remember when she _had_ been, though…and he sure as hell hoped she would be again. Now that he was feeling better, he could really _use_ a good snuggle… "You've been talking to J-P, I take it?"

"Oh yeah, he's had tons to say on the subject," she replied dryly. "I don't think he's exceptionally fond of your kitty…"

"No, he isn't," Bobby said, his brow wrinkling. He couldn't figure that out, actually. Usually, everyone liked Kitty; or respected her, at the very least. Jean-Paul seemed to actively _dislike_ her, and he couldn't understand why. He'd asked Kitty, once, but she'd changed the subject.

She did that far too often, lately.

"In any case," Annie had continued while he mused, "I've been thinking about coming out to visit, if I can find someone to watch Carter for a day or two."

"Oh god, don't do that," Bobby argued, glancing down at the hospital gown he was _still_ wearing despite his protests. Unfortunately, the nursing staff had seemed unimpressed. "You are _not_ coming out here until I'm out of the hospital. No way."

He heard Annie laugh lightly. "Ok, I'll wait a bit, then. But not long – I have a professional interest in making sure you're ok, after all."

"Yeah right, you just want to check out my semi-naked bod again, I'm onto you," he joked, and laughed as Annie made a rude noise.

"You know, you'd better watch that over-inflated opinion of yourself – you don't look _that_ good without your clothes on - no, not you Alex! I'm talking to Bobby on the phone. Yes, Bobby Drake – how many Bobby's do we both know?"

Bobby suddenly found himself laughing so hard he had to hang up the phone, knowing full well he wasn't going to be able to erase the mental image of the look that _must_ have formed on Alex's face when he heard _that _in time to respond to Annie's next comment – if she even managed to get back to the phone herself. Somehow, he didn't think Alex was going to accept a quick explanation to that one.

He was still chuckling when Dr. Rai entered the room, chart in hand and smile in place.

"Well, _someone's_ in a good mood," Zach said as he glanced around the room. "What, no visitors? This must be the first time I've come in on rounds that I haven't had to chase anyone out. Kitty step out for coffee, or something?"

"Nah, she's got to meet with Paige about something," Bobby shrugged. "She stopped by earlier to pick up Jubilee, and she'll probably be back after work." In truth, though he wouldn't have admitted it, he was almost relieved that Kitty hadn't stayed. He wasn't sure just how much longer he'd be able to play the "everything's just fine" game.

"Well, if for no other reason than to prevent all the wear and tear on our floor caused by your guests coming in and out, I'm going to release you tomorrow," Zach said, consulting his chart. "The pneumonia's almost cleared up, and according to both your latest lab work," Bobby winced, rubbing his arm that was beginning to feel like a pincushion, "and ummm, independent analysis," he continued, winking at Bobby with eyes that suddenly switched from brown to gold, and back again, "there's no sign of any active micro-sentinels in your body. You'll need to take it easy," he cautioned, and Bobby rolled his eyes, "but there's really no reason to keep you here if you feel up to going home."

Bobby grinned broadly, then felt it slip a bit. "I'm still pretty wobbly – is that going to get better any time soon?" he asked nervously, and was relieved when Dr. Rai nodded his head. He wasn't entirely sure that tipping over every few steps was _that_ big an improvement over being frozen, though it did seem to be getting better…

"You put your body through quite a workout; well, the nannites did, too, but most of the damage was caused by the cold. Mutant ability or no, I don't believe your body is designed to handle such extremes for such an extended period. As you've no doubt realized, you're suffering from severe muscle fatigue, but it should fade gradually over the next few weeks. I'll give you some handouts on an exercise program that should help."

"Thanks doc," Bobby answered, chuckling inwardly at what Dr. Rai would likely consider a _typical_ exercise program, and comparing it to the average Danger Room session. So long as it didn't have anything to do with doing aerobics with Paige, it should be a walk in the park. He said as much, and was rewarded by an awkward laugh from the doctor, whose face suddenly looked flushed.

"Are you warm, Zach? I can take care of that," Bobby offered, but Dr. Rai shook his head quickly.

"No, no, I'm fine. Keep the power use to a minimum, please – not only will it not help your recovery, but we've finally dried out all the lower levels. No, I was just wondering…is Paige, umm, _involved_ with anyone?"

Bobby bit his cheek, trying to fight both an overwhelming desire to say that yes, Paige and Jubilee were sleeping together (which was true, but not in the way it would be interpreted), and a mental image of the look on Warren's face when Bobby'd told him that sixteen would get him twenty. Resisting both, he just smiled and shook his head. While he and Paige weren't exceptionally close, they _were_ teammates, after all. Besides, she'd been good about coming up and playing Scrabble with him …and playing Scrabble with Paige wasn't like playing with Hank, there was, at least, a slim chance of him winning. Granted, it hadn't happened yet, but it was there…

"Not that I know of," he hedged, not 100% sure as to the state of the former Jono/Paige relationship. Jubilee had been filling him in on the gossip, but he'd been listening sporadically. "I don't think so, though."

"Oh. Well. I just…that is…" the doctor stuttered nervously, and Bobby smiled, realizing that the doctor was definitely interested in his blonde teammate.

"It's cool, doc. Y'know," he thought quickly, "Kitty said she was going to work around four o'clock, which means she and Paige should be finished up by then. Why don't you give her a call? I know you've got the number; it's in my chart, after all…"

"Maybe I will," Zach replied, the corners of his mouth creeping up into a crooked smile. "Any idea what kind of food she likes?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Bobby said conspiratorially, and dove into the topic of Paige's favorite restaurants.

After all, he thought cynically, _someone_ among the Fallen Angels might as well end up in a decent relationship. It wasn't as if _his_ was going anywhere.

Paige walked into the Belles of Hell, twirling her newly dyed auburn hair nervously between her fingers, and looked around self-consciously. She saw Kitty at the bar, and started to head in that direction, but saw Kitty shake her head, almost imperceptibly, gesturing with her head towards a table where a young man with blonde hair was sitting.

Oh yeah. Kitty's friend Tom.

Damn, but she was excited…and nervous. She wasn't even sure why, really; she wouldn't start classes until next week, though she'd gone and registered as a special transfer student, and one of Kurt's new contacts had been asked to smooth the way with the paperwork, as the quarter had already begun. It wasn't as if she expected this to be exceptionally, well, difficult. Just get in, find out what Purity was up to, and drop out of the group, hopefully with her cover still intact so she could stay on-campus and take classes.

That was an unplanned benefit to this whole thing, she mused as she casually made her way over to the table where Tom was sitting. She'd never expected to be able to go to college, never really _planned_ to. She'd wanted to be an X-Man since long before she manifested any mutant ability, and even if she hadn't she'd have had to get a full scholarship to even _consider_ going to college. But Kitty's enthusiasm, even jaded by her recent experiences, was infectious, and she'd found herself thinking that _maybe_ taking a few courses might not be a bad idea…

Kitty'd been…a surprise, actually. An agreeable one, and she found herself feeling more than a little embarrassed about her earlier attitude toward the older girl. Once they'd both settled down, they'd had a long discussion about Purity, the university itself, and what classes Paige might want to consider taking, though she knew at least part of her decision on that would be based on where she'd be most likely to encounter prominent members of Purity. Kitty'd been more than willing to answer any questions Paige had been able to come up with, and while they hadn't exactly gotten chatty, she'd definitely been a help. Which was more than Paige had expected, really.

Of course, it was also Kitty's fault that she was now sporting red hair; the computer tech had pointed out that Purity members _may_ have seen her at the time of the fight with the Sentinels, and that her pale blond hair was certainly memorable. And so, with unwanted advice and assistance from Jubilee, they'd picked out a color and washed it in. At least it would allegedly wash back out again over the next three months.

Having arrived at Tom's table, she took a deep breath before tapping him on the shoulder. When he turned, she smiled and asked, "Sorry to bother ya, but is this seat taken? It's just…it's kinda crowded 'round here," she added, glancing around, relieved to see that Kitty had been right when she'd said that this was the bar's busiest night. Not that Tom didn't know she was coming, but she didn't want to put him any more at risk than she had to. She knew better than to involve innocent bystanders any more than necessary, after all, though from what Kitty had said Tom was fully aware that _she_, at least, was a mutant. But a casual encounter at a bar – that seemed risk-free enough.

"No, go ahead, have a seat," he answered, and she pulled up a chair, then gestured for a waitress – _not_ Kitty – to come take her order.

"Ah'll have a Mai Tai – and another of whatevah he's havin'" she said, wincing inwardly as she heard herself deliberately falling back into speech habits she'd set aside so intentionally just a few years before. She busied herself taking out the brilliant identification that Kurt's contacts had gotten her in such short order-- the identification that said she was two years older than she was, in reality, and showed it to the girl.

"MGD on tap," Tom added in response to the waitress' quizzical look, once she was satisfied with the ID, then turned to smile at Paige as the girl left. "Thanks – you didn't have to do that."

"Yeah well, ya gave me a place ta sit down, after all," Paige replied, smiling back. Cute guy. Not her type, but definitely cute. She was kind of surprised Kitty wasn't interested; he looked like he'd be her type, had that all-American school boy look going, kind of like Bobby did.

On the other hand, who knew? Maybe she was. Not like they'd gotten to know each other all that well, in just a couple of hours. She stretched out her hand. "Paige Johnston. Nice ta meet ya. Is it always this crowded here?"

Tom chuckled in response, taking her hand for a moment. "Pretty much," he said, glancing around. "A friend of mine works here, she says it's always nuts. I don't come here that often, just kind of stopped in to say hi and found out she was too busy to talk, so I'm glad for the company. How about you, where are you from?"

"Tennessee. I just transferred here – yeah, Ah know, kinda late, but Ah had trouble subletting my apartment," she added, shrugging. "Ah lucked out – they didn't cancel my registration." Might as well get some practice in with her cover, after all; she didn't want to screw it up when it _did _matter.

After all, she'd had ample experience, if only second hand, with what happened when someone _did_ blow their cover…she just wished Jono knew how he'd done it, so she knew to avoid it.

Not that she would, she thought confidently. But, it was always better to be safe…

They chatted for an hour or so, mostly of non-consequential things, speaking in what seemed just a casual way about the recent turmoil on the campus, while in actuality Tom provided quite a bit of detail on Purity's recent activities. She'd made sure to speak her own assumed views of the situation, letting Tom argue the side of tolerance. Not that there were necessarily any Purity members present, but just in case…

"Well, ah don't see why people like _that_ should be allowed on campus, anyway," she sniffed finally. "They don't belong mixing with normal folk."

"I see," Tom said, setting down his drink. "Well, Paige, I'm afraid I'm going to have to get going. Maybe I'll see you around some time," he added coolly as he stood up to go, leaving a folder on the table. And winked at her, but only after making sure that no one was looking.

Paige waited for about fifteen minutes after he'd left, nursing her drink, before picking up the folder and leaving herself. Careful, this time, to not even acknowledge Kitty's presence at the bar. She never made the same mistake twice, after all.

She just hoped she wouldn't make any big ones once.

Jean-Paul was desperately trying not to think.

The problem was, he had nothing to distract him. In fact, he'd purposely made it clear, today, that he was in no mood for socialization. He'd gone so far as to come outside, and even go around the corner, away from where he usually found Jonothan on these nightly, almost ritualistic, outdoor sessions they both seemed to love so much. Lately, he would bump into the younger man and they would stand there, while the sun sank low. Brooding. Say a few nice words that had nothing to do with the fact that they were both insufferably pouting about their own woes, and then go back inside, one at a time.

It was vaguely reassuring, really.

But not tonight. Tonight, he did not want company. Not even of the silent, bitter variety that had suited him fairly well all week. Tonight, he was just... fucking pissed.

_Pryde_. He leaned against the side of the house, and felt his nose wrinkle up with disgust as he thought of the name. Just her name, and he wanted to hit something. He wasn't sure anymore what it was that bothered him the most about the woman-- there were just so many options. The ridiculous puppy-dog love between her and their invalid teammate. Her irritating overconfidence and impatience when it came to all things technical. Her refusal to acknowledge that he had a valid reason to distrust and dislike her, despite the evidence behind his claims about Bobby...

Alright. Maybe it wasn't _evidence_, per se. But he didn't care. Because he didn't like her.

And it rankled, that she'd gotten the last word. His stomach had been a wreck all day, and he knew that was why. He _hated _not getting the last word. But he'd just stood there while she walked away. Admittedly, he was stunned by her candid, and repeated, use of the phrase "fuck you." He hadn't actually been expecting it.

_I'm sure Drake would be happy to take care of that for you, no need for me to do the honors..._

So bitter. Like an old spinster woman living with her 80 cats scaring all the neighborhood children. That was him. Jean-Paul, the old cat lady. It didn't escape him, that he was being ridiculous about it. But _dieu_, he hated to lose... he _never _lost...

And then there was the matter of Jeanne-Marie. Dr. Rai was in charge of her case, over-all, but he was not her psychiatrist. And her psychiatrist had given him some rather disheartening news earlier in the day-- which was what had put him in this foul mood in the first place. It _appeared_, now that she was finally speaking more than two words at once (though certainly, not to him. God forbid she should speak to her own brother, who rescued her, who loved her more than life itself...), that she'd developed a _third _separate personality while in custody of the Weapon X program. And this one was, apparently... most unpleasant.

Weapon-X unpleasant. Super-villain unpleasant.

Fuck. Jean-Paul let his head fall backwards, and hit the wall with a slight thud. He didn't need this. He did - not - need -this.

"Oh..."

The speedster looked up sharply at the sound of that voice, eyes narrowing reflexively. Jono had come around the corner of the house, while he wasn't watching. Long-legged in those expensively-worn-in jeans, hair falling over his forehead in careful disarray, cigarette hanging out of his mouth like some kind of ad in Rolling Stone.

He considered telling the younger man, instantly, to fuck off. Get away and let him brood, stew in his own misery some more. It was bad enough that Jonothan had been there when he'd lost that battle with Kitty, he didn't need to be reminded of his defeat by staring at the man while he was trying to brood... He opened his mouth to tell him to leave--

But was cut off when the British mutant broke into a cautious, rather wry grin, and said, "We really should stop meeting like this, Jean-Paul. People will talk."

At first, Jean-Paul simply blinked at him. But after a second's thought, he suddenly felt as if something in him was... released. Some kind of previously unnoticed tightness in his chest. Some kind of hand that had been slowly clenching around his heart. And he smiled, a slight, hesitant smile that he was well aware probably matched the other man's rather well. "I don't believe it. There's never any gossip in a houseful of mutants. I don't know where you would've heard such a thing."

Jono raised one dark eyebrow, and the smile reached his eyes, this time. Strange eyes. A sort of clear, tannish brown. Too old for the face they were in. Lovely eyes, really. When he was off his guard, he was more expressive with them than most people were with their entire body. It was rare, of course, that the younger man let his guard slip. But he was obviously tired, emotionally, and every now and then, mostly on nights like these, when there was no one around to see-- no one but him, anyhow-- Jean-Paul would catch it. A faraway look that made Jono appear far too similar to some of the most grizzled veterans of war Jean-Paul had met. And he'd met quite a few, in his department H days. It was a look that the British boy was too young to wear, either way. It also appeared on his pretty features, sometimes, when Paige was near. He'd heard, mostly though Jubilee, of course, that all bets were off with the two former Gen-X-ers' romance. But it didn't take a bloody rocket scientist to decipher that look in Jono's eyes when she was near. He missed her.

Jean-Paul could appreciate that. Both the faraway, grizzled veteran look, and the spurned affections look. He'd worn them both by the time he was Jonothan's age. He was wearing them right now.

But they did look remarkably well, in those oddly bright, brown eyes. Enough so that Jean-Paul decided not to tell him to fuck off. Not tonight.

Jono had settled beside him now, leaning on the wall a few feet down from him, the leather of his jacket creaking softly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. They stood like that for a moment, silent, watching the sky turn purple to the west. The Canadian mutant mused on the irony of such a thing-- it was actually the pollution, so he'd read, from the factories and such in the city, that lent it such mesmerizing colors for its sunsets.

He considered constructing some sort of lame analogy about his own difficulties being what lent his life its color and character... but stopped before he'd really begun.

God. He was reverting to pathetic teenage angst poetry, internally. Lovely.

"How's yer sister?"

Jean-Paul arched an eyebrow, and turned his head to look at the man next to him. Jono was still staring out at the horizon, taking a long drag on his foul-smelling cigarette. But his eyes appeared to be clear of any self-pity, for the moment. And his face was smooth, composed, each of its hard lines lent even greater definition by the warm glow of the early evening. A good face. Even if it wasn't really his, he was certain Jono wouldn't have complained when he'd seen it, for the first time. "She's... speaking," He replied, slowly. On one hand, he didn't feel much like letting this man know just how upset he was by the state of his sister's shattered psyche. But on the other... the only other person who'd asked him was Kurt. And it had rather irritated him, really, that everyone else in the world was so willing to sweep Jeanne-Marie under the rug so quickly, to conveniently forget her, now that she was locked away, safe from the world.

And he appreciated that this man, despite everything he must've been through recently, which was far worse than anything the rest of them had endured (aside, perhaps, from Jubilee. Dying and being resurrected was rather difficult to beat, as a party trick), thought to ask. And really... he suddenly just... felt like letting go of it. "But she's not well. Her mind is cracked, and now not just into two parts."

His companion looked over at him now, catching his eyes and blinking, as if trying to understand. "Another...?"

"Oui," He nodded, with a slight sigh.

"Fuck."

"Oui."

There was another moment of silence now, not entirely uncomfortable, in which Jean-Paul wondered if he really should have said anything at all. No sound but the few birds brave enough to be in Chicago in autumn. The smell of dead leaves and wood smoke that somehow permeated the air even this close to the city.

"D'yer reckon Kurt fancies that terrorist-type from earlier this week.? Shade, or whatshername? Jubilee said as much, just the other day."

Gossip. Jean-Paul gave a snort... but he smiled, simultaneously. "He _does _start grinning like an idiot when anyone brings her up." It was true too-- their fearless fuzzy leader had obviously enjoyed his latest assignment a little too much. And he'd gone and had another sword made to match the one she'd left with him, as a matter of fact, almost the day after. In fact, he was smiling a lot more lately, in general, now that Jean-Paul thought about it... "I imagine he does, yes."

"Thought as much," Jono muttered, the equivalent of a verbal rolling of the eyes, somehow. "D'yer reckon he sleeps with the sword on his pillow then?"

This time, Jean-Paul laughed. "Non. Probably tucks it into the sheets beside him."

Their conversation trickled off into a somewhat companionable silence, but Jean-Paul realized that some of the…tension, he'd been feeling the last few days was somewhat less than it had been. Not gone. But less. And he felt better.

Eventually, the sound of his SUV's engine caught his attention, and he turned to watch as Paige pulled into the driveway, then into the garage, and disappeared out of sight. And when he turned around, he realized that Jono had made his exit as well.

Jubilee sat on the bed across from Paige, watching her roommate flip through the college catalogs she'd picked up earlier that day and absently braiding a section of hair on the side of her head.

Why? No particular reason. She just felt like…doing _something_. And watching Paige flip through catalogs wasn't particularly interesting, it just made her fingers itch to be doing something herself. And there was really nothing _to_ do.

"This is interesting, Jubilee, look at this," Paige said for about the thirty-fourth time.

"Just tell me already," she replied, shaking her head. Unfortunately, that caused the braid to slip out of her fingers and begin to unweave. Sighing, she started it over again.

"They're offering a class in communications media. That'd be really interesting, don't you think?" Jubilee made a sound that she hoped Paige would accept as polite interest and drop it, but the other girl was already rustling through the course schedules of known Purity members, trying to determine if she should sign up for it or not.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be bad. One of their leaders is taking it – let me see if the timeslot'll fit." Suddenly, Paige stopped talking and rustling, and Jubilee looked over at her, only to find her roommate staring at her, her head cocked and her brows knit.

"You know, you should sign up for some classes," Paige said.

Jubilee stared at her for a moment before bursting out laughing.

"Me? No thanks – I barely got through the Massachusetts Academy, remember?" she said between giggles. Leave it to Paige; everyone had to get into her interest of the moment.

"No, actually, I don't remember it that way at all," Paige contradicted. "I remember you barely studied and still got through everything; not with top grades, granted, but respectable ones. If you'd actually _applied_ yourself to anything…"

Jubilee shrugged. "For what? I wanted to be an X-Man – no college degree required, last time I checked. Hell, I'm not sure some of them have a high school diploma, and I got that. It just didn't seem important."

"Well, now you're not an X-Man, you're an Angel. Look around," Paige added, gesturing vaguely towards the rest of the house. "Bobby's an accountant, Kitty's a tech whiz, Jean-Paul –"

Jubilee cut her off, smirking, "Somehow I knew you'd get to him…" she said, and laughed as Paige cast her a dirty look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Paige asked, but before Jubilee could reply Paige's phone began playing some sort of classical music that was only vaguely familiar from a McDonald's commercial, and Paige scurried to answer it.

Not paying much attention to the conversation, Jubilee picked up Paige's discarded course catalog and began flipping through it, simply because it was there. She felt as if she was at loose ends, lately – no Bobby around to harass, and the others all had…stuff to do. She'd half-seriously considered asking Kitty if her friend needed any help at the bar, but, given her age, she knew she'd end up washing dishes or something equally boring. Taking a quick peek at the table of contents, she realized that the University had a drama program. Hmmm, that could be interesting…

"Yeah, sounds good – do you want me to meet you there? I'll have to check and see if the car's available, but…no, that'd be fine. Sure. Ok, I'll see you then," Jubilee heard, and switched her attention over to her roommate's phone conversation just as Paige pressed the off button and placed the phone back in her purse.

"Who was that?" she asked disinterestedly.

"What? Oh, just Zach – he wanted to know if I was done with the information he gave me," Paige said, sitting down on the bed. "Can I have that back, please?" she asked Jubilee, who resolutely thrust the catalog into her roommate's hands. "What?"

"I'm BOOOORED!" Jubilee complained loudly. "Kurt's on the phone all day, Kitty's at work, Bobby's still in the hospital, Johnny's doing…Johnny stuff, and Jono's been angsting all day. And you're running around to bars with cute guys. It's unfair. I need something to do," she concluded, glancing out the window. It had been raining earlier, so she couldn't even get out of the house.

"You should have come with me," Paige shrugged, and Jubilee saw she was already engrossed in the catalog once again.

"That would've blown your _cover_, wouldn't it?" Jubilee replied cattily, almost wanting to pick a fight just to alleviate her boredom. "Can't have that."

Paige set the catalog down in front of her, and stuck the chewed-on pencil she'd been using behind her ear. "Jubilee, do you have a point? And if you do, can you get to it already? I need to finish this up, and Zach's picking me up in half an hour…"

Jubilee was about to reply that yes, she did have a point, even as her mind scrambled to decide what it was, when Paige's final words sunk in. "Did I just hear you say that Zach's picking you up?" she asked, grinning. Gossip, after all, was always good. Best way to kill time. Ever.

"Yes, you did," Paige replied, sighing and rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. "He's going to pick me up, and we're going to go out to dinner since I need to give him back his books anyway. So can you go away so I can finish this up?"

Jubilee just stared at her roommate, wondering if Paige were really that oblivious or if she was only pretending to be. Deciding on the former, her grin broadened.

"Paige – don't you need some time to get ready? I mean, you don't go on a first date _every_ day," Jubilee asked innocently, her hands nearly itching from the anticipation of the look on Paige's face when she realized…

"Jubes, don't be ridiculous. He's just picking me up, and we're going to supper, and then we might go check out that new movie that came out this week…Oh. My. God." Jubilee chuckled as her roommate's face transformed from irritation to amazement as she realized the truth, and a smile gradually appeared on her face.

"Oh my God – Jubilee! I have a date!" Paige said, jumping up and rummaging through the boxes that had arrived from the mansion.

Jubilee just laughed and picked up the catalogue, and began thumbing through it once again. Drama program, huh...?

* * *

_Pandaemonium!_

And there you have it, Issue number seven of Fallen Angels. Hope it was half as enjoyable for you as it was for us!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last issue– bringing Kurt back into his own was just one of the things I was really looking forward to about this series, and the fuzzy fun has only just started, let me assure you. We have funny Kurt, we have spiritual Kurt, we have swashbuckling Kurt, we have sexy Kurt. This man does it all, and man do we love him for it. Glad to see that you all do too, and I can only hope that we continue to deliver in the blue-guy department.

On to the letters!

Oldprydefan: You've hit the nail right on the head with what made us want to do this in the first place– a realistic (ish!), honest portrayal, a good story, and some serious focus on the characters themselves. Comics... just don't do it anymore. I'm glad that we've managed, thus far, to keep to that standard we set for ourselves in the beginning. And do let us know if that starts to slip.

Jaenelle and rugez: Work for Marvel?! Us?! Hrm... if someone wants to start a letter-writing campaign, no one's going to complain on this end. Sweet of you to say it, anyhow!

Didi, Erin-Starlight and WishfulThinking2: Aww you liked Kurt and Shade! Glad to hear it, because our fuzzy-elf has definitely not seen the last of Isabel. After all, who wouldn't be hooked on a swashbuckling blue elf... with a tail? I know I couldn't say no...

Caliente, Melandra, Didi, BlueSqueak and Daten Shura: I'm feeling the JP love from you guys– and I couldn't be happier. Obviously, he's my favorite on the team. Well, him and Kurt, but I didn't pick the name "Beaubier" to write under for no reason. So... I heart you guys! And now that he's defunct as an X-Man in 616 (stupid Cyke... grrr), it's up to us to take good care of our favorite speedster here at FA. And we take that job seriously. Me _and _Sue.

Red Witch: Enough fur flying in this one for yer? We do try...

YourAngelStandingBy, mako, Caliente, Didi: And here we are with the Jono love! Glad to see that his portrayal here has been interesting, and added to the team. Yes, they truly are complete now, with everyone's favorite angst-boy in the mix. Score for the Fallen Angels!

And last, we really need to thank _everyone_ who has taken the time to review and let us know how you feel, be it bad or good. Harry2, Red Witch, The Scribe3, BlueSqueak, Risty, Didi, Wishful Thinking2, Caliente, mako, Melandra, amura, Erin-Starlight, Jaenelle Angelline, oldprydefan, KnowInsight, Daten Shura, Kakegodess, B Oots, and rugez. If not for you... we'd honestly think we were insane to do this. Of course, we may be yet... but at least we're in good company!

* * *

Next Issue: Bobby's back home, Kitty's almost moved in, Paige is getting ready to go to school, Jono is smoking too much, Jubilee is bored, Kurt is awfully distracted, and Jean-Paul suddenly has a dragon in his house. But these are the least of the worries for the Fallen Angels when an early morning visit makes them wonder just how effective their new security systems really are!


End file.
